


Hand

by TechnoBeat



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Alteration, Mild Horror, Repeating Cycle, Soul Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29652561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnoBeat/pseuds/TechnoBeat
Summary: Another short scenario fic.
Relationships: W. D. Gaster/Sans
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Hand

Sans had a rough day at work. Being the royal scientist was not an easy job. He'd need to go home soon, before Papyrus would get worried and throw another tantrum. 

But not yet.

There was a room only Sans knew the password to. It was his haven. No one else could get in. That's where he went to unwind, to get through the next day, the next week...

Sans closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to think about time passing him by anymore than he had to.

He was at the door. After making sure no one had followed him, he quickly entered the password and hurried in.

Walking through a corridor, he arrives to a spacious room, with nothing but a chair, and there is something sitting on it.

Sans walks next to it and takes it's hand. It's warm, and it stirs up a fogged memory. He knows the person this hands belongs to, he _knows_ he does. But no matter what he's tried, the memory won't get any clearer.

Sans strokes the back of the hand with his thumb, running it around the circular hole in the middle before he lifts it closer to his face, having the hand cup his cheeck.

The hand gets detached from the rest of the mannequin's arm, and slips from Sans' hold, falling to the floor. Startled a bit, Sans reaches out to pick it up.

He'd need to figure out how to fasten the hand without damaging it at some point.

Then the hand twitched. 

Sans jumps back, eyes widened, and watches as the hand twists and twitches. It gets up on it's fingers, and rushes towards Sans at an unnatural speed.

Sans screams and summons a wall of bones, which sends the hand flying, and it hits the floor with a thud.

Did it stop?

It gets up again, this time in a more controlled manner, and starts to inch closer to Sans again. He summons another wall, and the hand stops.

It's like it was waiting.

He decides to test a theory, and takes the wall down, and sure enough, the hand moves again. But something was different. It was as if it tried to move as "naturally" as it could, like in an attempt to not scare Sans.

But why?

As Sans tried to make sense of the situation, he felt something touch his leg, and he froze completely.

The hand had already made it's way to him.

Then it started climbing.

Sans was paralyzed.

The hand layed down on Sans chest, and went inside his shirt and ribcage, and wrapped around his soul, squeezing it slightly.

Sans gasped, as he remembered a name.

Gaster.

Magic was building up around his body, as the hand worked on his soul with a level of familiarity he hadn't known he had so dearly missed, and tears started to fill his eyes, equally from the feeling of loss and pleasure.

He felt a finger press down into his soul, and he let out a moan he didn't know he was holding in.

Not knowing what to do with his hands, he moved them down towards his pelvis, running his fingers around the pubic symphysis, concentrating fully on how well the hand wrapped around his soul knew what made him go wild.

Sans was panting and moaning loudly, as another finger was inserted into his soul. He couldn't hold it together any longer, and a wave of pleasure washed over him as the hand slowly let go of his being.

It climbed out of his ribcage towards Sans' head, and held his cheek the best it could. Sans placed his hand over it, and kissed the palm, as the hand ran its thumb over his cheek slowly.

Slower.

And then it stopped moving.

Sans held the hand, waiting a while to see if it would start moving again.

Sans was holding a hand, and he _knew_ he knew the one it belongs to.

Sans was feeling relaxed, as he usually did after visiting his secret room. He still didn't know why it made him feel that way, since there was only a chair, and a mannequin that looked like someone he feels like he knows.

It was time to go home, Papyrus must be getting worried.


End file.
